


Just Another Provincial Town

by Tassos



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Mundane, Background Het, Background Relationships, Community: trope_bingo, M/M, Slice of Life, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassos/pseuds/Tassos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The village of Camlott was bigger than most, with a tavern and a blacksmith. It had grown up around a Roman watch tower at the crossroads. To the north a few days on horseback was their lord's castle, to the west the walled town of Caerleon, and to the south were more towns and cities and lords and the war. Merlin didn't really know. The farthest he'd ever been from home was Caerleon.</p><p>No kings, no castles, no magic, but Elyan still runs away from home, Arthur is still next in line to lead the village, and Gwaine still ends up in Merlin's bed. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Provincial Town

**Author's Note:**

> Written for trope_bingo, this is very much a what-if snapshot of an alternate universe, light on plot but with bonus porn.
> 
> Title from Disney's Beauty and the Beast

Merlin leapt. Bark dug into his palms as his fingers wrapped around the branch, and he pushed off the trunk and up, up, into the branches.

"Merlin, get back here!" Arthur shouted from below, clat, clat, clat rapping closer and closer.

"Better run, Merlin! Because you're next!" Leon shouted, straw sticking in his hair where Merlin could just see him through the leaves. He held the stave of his hoe in two hands, whacking furiously against the stave of the pitchfork in Arthur's hand. The same pitchfork they'd used to tumble a stack of hay from the upper level of the barn onto Leon's head.

"You're going to put it to rights as soon as I'm done beating you!" Leon shouted.

"Merlin! Jump on him!" Arthur called desperately. He was no slouch when it came to fighting, but Leon had a full head on him in height and righteous fury.

"No thanks," Merlin called down, grinning. He was no fool. The only safe place was the tree. Pulling one over on Leon was all Arthur's idea anyway, except for the hay bale part, so he could suffer on his own. Merlin was going to take a refreshing late afternoon break up in the tree.

It was a lovely day for it. The sun was just beginning to think about setting, casting cool shadows over the remains of the day. It was probably one of the last good days of summer they'd have before the leaves turned and they'd be carving themselves out of snow drifts. As Merlin pulled himself higher, he had a terrific view of the village and fields stretching away into the distance.

The tree he sat in was part of a small copse on a steep hillside that tumbled into the river. Not a big river, but enough for a proper bridge linking the woods here to the long stretch of trees that swallowed the eastern road. Westward, past the field below him where Leon and his brothers had been bringing in the harvest, lay the cluster of buildings that made up their village. Camlott was bigger than most, with a tavern and a blacksmith. It had grown up around a Roman watch tower at the crossroads. To the north a few days on horseback was their lord's castle, to the west the walled town of Caerleon, and to the south were more towns and cities and lords and the war. Merlin didn't really know. The farthest he'd ever been from home was Caerleon.

Still, he'd heard stories and that was almost as good as having gone. Travelers came from the southern road -- and it looked like they had travelers coming right now, in fact. Merlin grinned.

"Arthur!" he shouted at the ground. Below, he could just make out two pairs of legs rolling on the ground and pained grunts and cursing. Quarter-staves had devolved into wrestling.

"You're dead to me, Merlin!" Arthur answered.

"Come up. Travelers on the road!" That got both Arthur and Leon's attention and it wasn't long before both of them were scrambling up into the tree.

They were still too far away to see clearly, but it looked like four figures tromping closer. One was quite tall and another had dark skin, which set Merlin's heart pounding. He grabbed at Arthur, trying to get his attention and point and hold onto the tree trunk at once.

"Is that-- it is! Elyan!" Merlin shouted, trying to wave now, and Arthur had to grab him round the waist to keep him from falling.

"You idiot. Of course, you'd try to welcome him back by killing yourself," said Arthur, but he was excited too, Merlin could tell.

"Who are those others with him?" asked Leon. "Think they went off to fight too?"

The only way to find out was to greet them, Merlin grinned at Leon, who rolled his eyes and started clambering back down. The three of them raced back to the village, Merlin pulling ahead to run to the forge.

"Gwen! Tom!" he shouted over the clang clang clang of hammer on iron. Tom at the anvil looked up, and so did Gwen who was working the bellows, her skirt twisted up in a knot at her waist to keep it out of the way.

Merlin stuttered to a stop and had to catch his breath. "Elyan!" he said, pointing toward the road.

"What's this then?" Tom frowned, eyes sliding over Merlin's shoulder.

"Travelers on the southern road," said Arthur, coming up beside Merlin, barely breathing hard. "One of them looked like Elyan."

"Are you sure?" said Gwen. She didn't sound like she believed them. "Weren't you out working the harvest? Hello, Leon."

Merlin waved it away because they had seen, and it was Elyan, he was sure of it. "Gwen, we saw him. We were up in a- Ow!" Arthur had stepped on his foot as he moved forward, reaching for Gwen's hand.

"Just come on. He's home," Arthur said impatiently. Merlin looked at Tom as a smile broke out on Gwen's face and she took Arthur's hand. Tom was less quick to soften, but Merlin didn't stick around to convince him. It had been a bitter fight that preceded Elyan leaving in the night, more than a year ago. Tom wouldn't be able to resist the allure of visitors, even if he was still angry.

By the time the four walkers crested the last hill that led into Camlott, half the village had turned out. It was Elyan leading the group, scruffy, hard worn and with a sword hanging at his hip. The three others with him were equally rugged. Two had dark hair that fell to their shoulders and the third was taller than Leon with his hair chopped close to his head. All were smiling, and when Gwen burst from the crowd, Elyan ran halfway to meet her. The collided as only brother and sister could, and Elyan hugged her and swung her around. Merlin, Arthur, and Leon weren't far behind.

"You're home. You're _home_ ," Gwen was saying.

"I am. I'm sorry. But I'm back," Elyan said into her hair. "And you!" he said, releasing Gwen and looking at the rest of them, grinning wide and bright. "You still have ugly faces."

"And you're still an idiot," said Arthur, grinning and pulling him in for an embrace.

The rest of the village had clustered around by then, and it wasn't long before Old Uther was shouting and whacking people out of his way with his walking stick. "Make way, make way," he said impatiently. Uther was a tall, strong man, even now with his hair gone gray. He could be harsh and he didn't like change, but he did his best to protect the village from threats that arrived on their doorstep. He smiled at Elyan now.

"I see you're still alive then," Uther said. Arthur stepped back so he was at his father's shoulder. His sister, Morgana, immediately grabbed Gwen's hand.

"Yes." Elyan ducked his head for a moment in respect, but he didn't bother to hide his smile when he looked up. "And these are my friends, Lancelot," he gestured to the first of his long-haired companions, "Gwaine," the second waring a big grin, "and Percival," the tall giant of a man. "I wouldn't have come home alive without them."

"Then they are welcome here as our guests," said Uther, and with those words, everyone who didn't have things to finish before dark began moving toward the tavern to celebrate.

The tavern was the bottom floor of the old Roman watchtower. It was large enough to hold the whole village if they were cozy, which in winter they were. Extra rooms had been added to the back over the years, but the main tower still stood tall. The upper rooms and the roof had been rebuilt a few times, and every spring Arthur had to patch any damage from winter storms.

A fire was already blazing in the hearth, the evening's roast stuck on a spit across it. Morgana kept busy during harvest, feeding everyone so the women could join the men in the fields. She was already running around yelling orders at the girls helping her. It felt like a festival, and soon she had the ale flowing. Merlin didn't feel bad at all about pushing open a place for himself at the head table between two of the newcomers.

"Hello!" Merlin greeted Gwaine and Lancelot cheerfully when he placed a hand on each of their shoulders and deftly sat between them. Gwaine immediately smiled back, Lancelot was shyer, but still edged over to make room. On his other side Elyan sat beside Uther in the place of honor, and Percival's head stuck up over Gwaine's shoulder.

"I'm Merlin. That's Arthur and Leon," he pointed across from them where Arthur, Leon and his brothers had piled onto the bench. "And those runts are Kent and Eckard."

"Did you fight in the wars, too?" Eckard, all knees and elbows, knelt on the bench eagerly awaiting an answer.

"We did," said Lancelot solemnly. "We fought for King Ambrose. That's where we met Elyan."

"Covered in mud and didn't know which way to turn at first," added Gwaine with a laugh. "But he's a right scary fighter."

"Didn't cause you too much trouble, I hope." Gwen's voice came suddenly from behind, making Merlin startle. She held a tray of tankards, and he jumped up again to help her serve them around, reaching past Gwaine to slide one to Percival. Gwen was handing one to Lancelot when he turned back, and Merlin swore Lancelot's eyes were even more solemn and doe-eyed when their fingers brushed.

Arthur had noticed, Merlin saw -- and Morgana too, because she slapped at Arthur's head after she set drinks out for the other side of the table. Gwen, kind soul that she was, returned Lancelot's smile, but Arthur was who her gaze returned to with a fond roll of her eyes. 

"Come now, come now," Uther said loudly, standing. "Time to drink to our returned Elyan. Wait, where's your father? Tom?"

"Coming, Uther. They should be here in a moment," said Merlin's uncle Gaius. He leaned heavily on his cane as he sat in his customary place at the end of the table.

"What, were you going to drink without us?" Morgana said, as she and Gwen returned to squeeze between Arthur and Leon. It was a tight fit, but neither girl seemed to mind, and Arthur certainly wasted no time creating more space for Gwen under his arm.

"We'd never think to drink without such beautiful company," said Gwaine, raising his glass to her.

"Oh, you're a charmer," Morgana laughed.

"He's terribly charming," said Percival sincerely. "He'd charm a sheep if it meant a warm place to put his --"

"Oy!" Gwaine whacked Percival around the ears while the rest of them laughed.

"You should teach Merlin some charm then," said Morgana, "He's left a string of broken hearted girls behind him with his big eyes and bashful tongue."

"I have not!" Merlin protested.

"Merlin, you're a clotpole when it comes to knowing what a girl wants." Morgana threw her cleaning rag at Merlin's head, which hit him square in the face.

But the doors opened before Merlin could protest again or retaliate, and Tom and Merlin's father stepped inside. Tom only had eyes for his son. Elyan stood. The whole room held its breath. Then Tom was moving forward and Elyan was coming round the table and the two men met in the middle and embraced.

"Elyan said he didn't think his father would welcome him home," Gwaine said quietly in Merlin's ear.

"Of course he would. He hated it when Elyan left. Tom didn't want him to get himself killed," Merlin replied. He looked up to find Arthur and Gwen listening to them. "None of us wanted him to go."

"Then we are glad he was able to make it home," said Lancelot, raising his tankard.

"Yes." Arthur stood, raising his ale to the whole room, Uther standing as well. "To homecomings!" The whole village toasted Elyan's safe return.

Merlin glanced over at Gwaine who for the first time since he arrived wasn't smiling. "Do you have family?" he asked.

"Not anymore." Gwaine grimaced, leaning in close to be heard under the cheers around them. "The war overtook my village years ago. I've been fighting since I was half grown." 

"I'm sorry," said Merlin, at a loss. Camlott was north of the wars. The fighting had only recently come to the lands to the south and west. Every year more and more travelers came north seeking refuge and bringing bad tidings. Uther had been teaching Arthur and the other boys as much as he could remember from his days soldiering, as bandit attacks became more frequent. They'd lost too many in the last attack. Merlin couldn't imagine losing everybody.

"It's the way of things," Gwaine shrugged and drained the last of his tankard. "But now! This is a celebration and it is definitely time for more ale!" He grinned at Merlin, his darker thoughts disappearing from his face. Merlin couldn't help but return the smile as Gwaine slapped him on the back and called for more ale. "You, my dear, are a treasure," he told Eliza when she came round with the jug. 

Eliza giggled, and Merlin rolled his eyes. Though, watching the long column of Gwaine's throat as he swallowed, he supposed he couldn't blame her.

Soon Morgana was extracting herself from the table to serve up the roast, and the room was demanding stories and tales of far off lands. Elyan began with his dunderheaded blundering into battle, saved only by Lancelot's shield, and Gwaine and Percival soon joined in with all the detail Elyan was certain to have wished they had forgotten. 

"Don't you mock me, Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Kilgarrahkin," Elyan shook his finger at them after Gwaine told of the time Elyan had tried to mend his own clothing and ended up sewing closed both arms of his shirt, and both Merlin and Arthur had burst out, "He did that all his shirts once!" 

"That was Will's fault! He was the one who was showing me how to fix the rips, and he was the one who told me that those were gaps that needed fixing," Elyan protested, glancing around. "Where is Will anyway?"

The question stopped Merlin cold, leaving him feeling like he'd just been doused with water. It did that sometimes, he'd found, but even knowing didn't make it hurt any less. He could see Leon, Gwen, and Arthur all thinking the same, especially Arthur who had always been at odds with Will, even though they both were best of friends with Merlin.

Merlin's eyes caught Arthur's, and Arthur, who never was one to look away from truth, chucked back the rest of his ale and said, "Dead. Bandits. This past summer. A toast to lost friends!" Any more questions Elyan might have had were drowned out by the rest of the room echoing the words, half drunk already.

Merlin drank long and hard, and he didn't notice the arm around his back until Gwaine squeezed his shoulder and said, "Here," offering his own tankard when Merlin's was empty.

The ale went straight to his head, a light fluffy feeling that dulled the memory. There were a few more tales of surviving the war by luck or stupidity, and Merlin wondered as Lancelot skipped to the end, if a battlefield looked as empty as a barley field churned over with blood. Soon, however, Elyan was telling of Percival nearly losing his head for being too tall, and Gwaine was telling of Lancelot's single-handed rescue of a stolen chicken, and Percival was telling of the time Gwaine _had_ fallen madly in love with a sheep.

"A sheep. Really." Merlin, tankard full again, leaned into Gwaine's side. He was warm and his arm was still propping Merlin up.

"Lies. All lies. I have no recollection of ever crooning to a sheep to let me share the warmth of her wool," said Gwaine. 

About the time Morgana and her helpers started clearing the tables, Ector struck up his pipes and the dancing began, leaving all thought of sheep and war behind.

Arthur, with rosy cheeks and shining eyes, swept Gwen up around her waist, the first ones on the floor. Elyan caught Merlin before he could join them. "When did that happen?" he asked, leaning close to Merlin's ear.

"After you left," Merlin answered, a small part of him glad when Elyan flinched. He didn't dwell on it; he was glad Elyan was home. But he grabbed Gwaine's hand and pulled him with him to the open space in the center of the tables. With practically the whole village celebrating, the dancers quickly fell into two uneven circles, and it was more stomping and singing than actual dancing. 

Their guests sang and danced too, and Gwaine seemed to have appointed himself the person to make sure Merlin didn't injure anyone else with his feet and elbows. Usually it was Arthur's job, but Merlin couldn't say he minded the change. He liked Gwaine. Gwaine had nice hair and he made funny faces when they sang the ribald verses and his nice arms were steady when Merlin stumbled for laughing too hard. After a sun burnt summer and the long day in the fields, bringing the harvest in, it was everything Merlin needed.

Sometime later, the dancing music gave ways to softer tunes. The room had stopped spinning for Merlin not long after the dancing faded into gathering around the hearth and telling stories once more. Merlin found himself staring at the shapes in the fire. It was hot, searing against his front, but at his back the air was sharp and cold. The flames twisted and turned about. Merlin's drunk had faded into a languid, floaty feeling that bubbled through him from his head to his toes. 

Laughter and snoring punctuated the conversations that had stolen over the tavern as night deepened. The children were put to bed, and most of the older folk were either gone home or deep in their cups. Uther had fallen asleep in his chair at the head table. Nearby Gaius and Balinor were deep in conversation, though Merlin thought it not long before his father would return home.

At the table closest to the hearth, Merlin's friends both old and new had gathered. Morgana's laughter rang out, her head thrown back against Leon's shoulder, his arms wrapped around her in his lap. Across from them, Percival and Elyan were telling another tale with Marion and Eliza leaning in close to them, hanging on every word, and in Marion's case, some very nice arms. Their beds would not be empty tonight. 

Arthur and Gwen had already forgotten everyone else in favor of each other, and Lancelot who sat closest to them looked distinctly uncomfortable. He was the only one sitting who was not matched up, and Merlin frowned trying to think what was missing before he realized it was Gwaine. Probably off with someone then, thought Merlin, looking about and nearly falling into the fire when Gwaine appeared right behind him.

"Whoa there!" Gwaine caught him by the hips, pulling him away from the hearth. The room swayed as Merlin regained his feet. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't," Merlin lied. "I was just, um . . ."

"Right," Gwaine laughed, throwing his arm around Merlin's shoulders. Merlin leaned into him for balance, enjoying the heat of Gwaine's body pressed against his once more. Clotpole with girls or not, Merlin was fairly certain that Gwaine liked pressing up against him, too. "What are you staring at here?" Gwaine nodded toward the fire.

"Dragons," Merlin said, grinning. It's what his father always said when he was small, and even now Merlin couldn't help but trace out wings from flickering flames.

"Dragons?" Gwaine's voice was close. "Not wars or women?"

Merlin turned his head, and Gwaine was right there. His eyes were light brown, reflecting the gold of the fire. Will's eyes had been blue. "Never been much for either of those," said Merlin quietly. Gwaine's eyes flicked to his mouth, and Merlin clutched him tighter for balance as he leaned closer.

He could feel Gwaine's breath against his lips. "Morgana said something about space to sleep in the barn?"

It was still warm enough for travelers to sleep more comfortably in the hay. "I can show you," said Merlin. 

He was wide awake now, and he let his fingers stroke across Gwaine's back, feeling the slope of muscle underneath his shirt. Gwaine swayed into him, and Merlin, grinning, took a step back and grabbed his hand.

Stumbling a little around tables and chairs, Merlin led them outside. The air was crisp after the warmth of the hearth, the stars bright. At the doors, Merlin broke into a run, pulling Gwaine along until they reached the side door to the village barn.

The barn smelled like summer. Shadows towered tall -- bales of hay and barley the villagers had spent the day bringing in. Merlin barely noticed. He pulled Gwaine inside and pushed him against the rough boards of the barn wall. His scraggly beard scratched against Merlin's palms but his lips were soft, yielding to Merlin, teeth nipping at Merlin's lip. Gwaine's hands splayed across Merlin's chest, spanning his ribs even as one thumb found his nipple beneath his shirt, making Merlin gasp.

Gwaine's tongue took advantage of the opening, swiping inside, making Merlin press closer, as their tongues collided and sent sparks down his spine. He wasn't aware of moving until he almost tripped over his own feet when Gwaine pushed away from the wall dragging Merlin down with him to the floor.

He was a heavy weight, all lean muscle and roving hands. It wasn't long before Gwaine was yanking at Merlin's belt and pushing up his shirt. The cool air hitting his chest made him shiver as much as Gwaine's hands on his skin.

"Is this…? Can I?" Gwaine gasped between kisses.

"Yes," said Merlin, sucking in a breath when Gwaine tilted his head to nip under his jawbone. Gwaine's hands slid up his torso then back down to the laces of his trousers. Merlin, hot and aching already, grabbed two handfuls of Gwaine's shirt, trying to pull him closer, get him naked, both. His trousers were half undone when Gwaine pushed back enough to get his shirt off.

Merlin followed him to sitting, propping his knees behind Gwaine who knelt on his lap. Gwaine's chest was hairy and tasted of sweat and dust when Merlin ran his tongue over his collar bone. He kissed his way downward until he pressed the flat of his tongue over Gwaine's nipple.

"Fuck." Gwaine's hands came up to grasp Merlin's head, fingers threading through his hair. His hips stuttered, the muscles of his stomach flexing and fluttering as Merlin's hands roved lower and he sucked at the peaked nipple in his mouth. "Fuck," Gwaine gasped again, fingers clenching in Merlin's hair, the tug going straight to Merlin's cock. 

Merlin groaned, needing to be closer, needing his hands on Gwaine, needing Gwaine's hands on him. He didn't know which of them moved first, but Gwaine pushed and Merlin pulled and both their hands were on their laces, tripping over each other. Then it was cold air and Gwaine's hand on his cock, hot and tight, right below the head, not moving, not yet. Merlin fumbled, trying to catch his breath as hot sparks shuddered through him. Gwaine swept his thumb over the tip, gathering the moisture there, and Merlin shuddered again when his hand began to stroke, stuttering with the loose skin he dragged over the tip again and again. It was too much; it wasn't enough.

"Here, wait," he said, pushing Gwaine back slightly.

"Too much for you?" asked Gwaine, going easily but his voice held some hesitance. Like he thought Merlin wanted to slow down or stop. His breath like Merlin's was loud and fast. 

Merlin met his eyes, which reflected in the moonlight filtering in through the board walls. The last thing he wanted was to stop. He brought his hand up and licked it, loving how Gwaine's eyes followed his tongue from the base of his palm to his fingertips. Then he surged toward Merlin, one hand wrapping around the back of his head while the other grabbed Merlin's, their fingers intertwining as he guided Merlin to wrap his sticky-slick palm around both their cocks.

Merlins' mouth fell open when they touched, the strong hot feel of Gwaine's cock against his -- he could feel his whole body tightening, and then Gwaine's hand was making his hand move, and Gwaine pressed open mouthed kisses to Merlin's throat, that dissolved into hot breaths and short grunts as their hands stroked faster and faster until it all crashed over Merlin, waves and waves of pleasure. His cock jerked, warm seed spilling over their hands, soaking into their skin, Gwaine's own pleasure soon tumbling after.

Gwaine collapsed on top of Merlin, and they lay there spent, gasping for breath. Merlin wrapped both his arms around Gwaine and just breathed. 

"That what you were thinking about when you were staring at the fire?"

Merlin laughed. "Not exactly. More what I was thinking all night." He shivered, sweat cooling his skin everywhere Gwaine wasn't touching him. His clothes were a mess, both of theirs were, and it wasn't long before it started to get uncomfortable.

They cleaned up as best they could in the barn, and Merlin watched Gwaine make up a pallet. He should go home, go to sleep because he would be up early for another day of harvest, but Merlin didn't want to make the long walk to the other end of the village.

"Will you be here in the morning?" he asked Gwaine, who finished piling straw before standing. The laces of his shirt were entirely undone and hadn't put his jacket or belt back on. He was rumpled and his hair had straw in it. Merlin just wanted to stand close and run his hands through it, maybe bite a mark into the bare skin beneath the open neck of his shirt.

Gwaine set his hands on his hips, nodding but not quite looking at Merlin. "We hadn't thought much beyond getting Elyan home. We've been walking for a while."

"You could stay. Help with harvest. Help fight against the bandits. The elders would let you stay," said Merlin, stepping closer.

"Would they?"

"Yes." Merlin only had to convince his father and Gaius, and they wouldn't turn away helping hands. "So will you?" He reached out, letting a finger trace along Gwaine's collarbone.

Gwaine's eyes dropped to watch the hand on his chest, breath already short. "I haven't had a home in long time."

"You could have one here." Merlin closed the distance between them. Gwaine smelled good, like sex and dirt and summer, and Merlin wanted to taste his skin again, see what Gwaine looked like fucked out beneath him.

When Gwaine looked up, their eyes met, and Merlin didn't know what Gwaine saw there, but on Gwaine's face were both want and naked hope. Then Gwaine was reaching out, too, gripping Merlin's hand and pulling him in for a kiss, and Merlin got to run his fingers through his hair after all as Gwaine's tongue stroked against his once more. When they came up for air, Merlin's blood was hot again, their breath mixing in the space between as Gwaine leaned his forehead against his.

"Stay," he said, both question and answer.

Merlin grinned and nodded, pulling him close once more.


End file.
